Chapter 1
Harry looked out the window of the Dursley's family car into the pouring rain that came down in buckets on the street that speed by him. He wasn't thinking of anything, just staring at the yellow blur of the road that passed underneath him. It had been two weeks since Dumbledore had told Harry about the prophecy that was made before he was born which held the information about how and why Harry had received his scar, and why everything had to happen to him. When Dumbledore had told Harry this it didn't seem that important. It seemed like it was some other person that Dumbledore was talking about not Harry, but Harry new it was him. It was always him. The funny thing was that he didn't really care anymore. He didn't feel human anymore. All the emotion that usually ran through his body, love, hatred, sadness it was gone, now it just felt…. numb. This was okay with Harry he didn't want to feel anything anyway so he just accepted it quietly.
As the car speed farther and farther into the pouring darkness Harry fell deeper, and deeper into his own numb thoughts. Harry had just forgotten that the Dursley's were in the same car with him when Uncle Vernon cleared him voice. Harry new what this meant. It meant Uncle Vernon had a bone to pick with Harry (he got it a lot). Harry didn't change his expression as Uncle Vernon started his speech but just kept looking out of the window.
"So, Boy, I have some new rules that we are going to discuss right now before we arrive home," Uncle Vernon said sternly, trying to sound brave, but still sounded a bit shaken up from the talk that the order had given him at the train station. Harry didn't say anything, and gazed silently out the window only half listening. After realizing that Harry didn't have a reply to this Uncle Vernon continued on.
"You will not be aloud out of the house for more than two hours a day. We don't want you to wander the streets at night disturbing people" he continued saying the last part rather faster than needed. Harry new the reason for this. It was because just last summer he, and Duddly had been attacked by a dementor on the streets of little Whinning, and Duddly had almost been kissed which is worse than deadly.
"Rule two you will only come out of your room for chores, and daily meals. If we once find you wandering around the house not doing anything it will be know meals for a week. You understand me boy?" he asked almost shouting. Harry had know clue why he was so mad at Harry when he hadn't even done anything yet, but he didn't really care. He just again stared out the window.
"Did you hear me boy?" he asked.
"Yes, sir" Harry replied dully.
"Next you will not be aloud any of your…. schools books, or homework or whatever you do at that weird school in your room, and if I hear that damn bird once in the middle of the night I will chuck it out onto the street I swear to god! Do you hear me?"
"Yes, sir" Harry said; now looking up at the condo that they were passing.
"Any new rules we will inform you later." Harry waited for more until he knew uncle Vernon was finished with his speech he drifted off into his own head.
The first few weeks of summer went by slowly. Every minute felt to Harry like it was his last like he was imprisoned inside himself. The Dursley's didn't make it much better either, and they weren't joking about their new rules. It's not that Harry really cared about having to be in his room all the time except for dinner, and chores. In fact Harry liked it that way, but it was the fact that he was only aloud outside for two hours a day, unless he was doing chores. One of the nights he went out he came home 30 seconds late, and he was in deep trouble. He was starving for the next week after that. He liked to walk the streets for those hours he was aloud outside. The coolness of the night air calmed him.
When he was in his room not wandering the streets, Harry usually just lay in bed trying not to think, but was always unsuccessful. During one of these thinking times when he was thinking about Ron, and Hermione, he realized something. What if something happened to them, because of him. I mean Voldemort was after him what if he did something to Ron or Hermione to get to him just like he did with Sirius. He was endangering them just by being with them. He knew that they would do anything for him. Even risk their own lives, and of course he would do the same for them, except that is what worried him the most. When he would have to face Voldemort what if Ron, and Hermione were there with him. What if they got hurt, or… he got up quickly going to his window to let some fresh air in. He let the cool air wash over his face, and drinking in the smell of freshly cut grass. He was used to that smell, it was the smell of the suburban houses that lined his street. He slowly walked over to his bed, and got on his hands, and knee's, and reached under his bed for the loose floorboard. He got up, and held some ten letters in his hands. He looked through them all reading each one over at least twice. They were letters from Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. They were the only things in his room that reminded him that he still belonged to another world, seeing that all his school stuff was locked under the stairs. He hadn't written back to any of them yet. It's not that he didn't really want to talk to them it was just that he didn't really know what to say to them. The letters were sort of fake sounding, and he knew exactly why. Ever since Sirius Black had died (his Godfather) his friends were treating him like a lost puppy, frightened, little baby that couldn't handle the truth. Each one of them said things like "Well I'm doing fine. How are you? Have you got your Owl marks back yet I haven't. I can't wait to see you. My family is doing good how about you have the Dursley's been treating you good?" They sounded so touchy, and formal. Not casual like they used to be, with humorous jokes, and telling about what Fred, and George were up to now. He knew that he would have to write to them soon, because the letters were starting to get more urgent sounding, because he wasn't answering. He was just thinking that he should write to them when he realized what he had to say to them to save them. He was going to have to drive them away to keep them safe. He was going to have to make them mad at him, so that they wouldn't want to see him anymore. Just the thought of it made him want to curl up, and die, but he had to write this down in a letter. How could he do that, he couldn't pretend to hate them, and what if they got suspicious that he was just mad at them out of the blue. He was going to have to think of a reason to be mad at them, but what. He sat down at his desk, and took out a piece of parchment, and a pen, which he had left there last summer. He wrote at he top… Dear Ron, and Hermione. Harry didn't know what he was going to say. Just the first sentence had taken a lot of his will power. So he just jumped into it not really thinking of what he was writing saying to himself that he knew none of it was true, and that it was for the best. When he was finished he didn't even look it over he just shoved it in his desk drawer, and took two deep breaths. Even though the letter was in his desk drawer he could still see the words in his head, like they were etched there and wouldn't go away.
Dear Ron, and Hermine,
I know that we haven't talked in a while, but that is because I have been thinking very deeply about something that is bothering me. I am not going to drag up to the reason that I am writing to you I'm just going to come out, and say it. It is your fault that Sirius died. If you hadn't been stupid enough not to talk me out of going to the Ministry of Magic he might not be dead. Also you guys could have told me more often to go, and work on my Occlumency, but you didn't so I feel that most of the blame lies in your hands. You guys were supposed to be my friends, and watch out for me, but all you do is follow me into danger even though I told you to stay. You just wanted me to feel more guilty when you guys got hurt, or you just wanted the fame of saying I went to the Ministry with Harry Potter. I don't even know why I became friends with you guys. I'm too famous to be seen with you slobs. I mean come on Hermine Granger, what a freak all you do is homework, and reading! This is, because your life is too dull to do anything else Mudblood. And Ron Weasley, the name explains itself. Low class doesn't have enough money to buy a feather. Your family are freaks too, and I've known all along that you're jealous of me. You look up to me like I'm a king, but don't waste your time, because you'll never be as good as me. So take your girlfriend, and leave me to my life.
Harry PotterEvery word of that letter had cost him pain that was worse than even the crucio curse. Pain that ate you from the inside, and worked it's way to the outside. He crawled into his bed feeling like he was going to be sick. He didn't even think that they would believe the letter if he sent it to them, and the reason that he said he was mad at them was just so stupid, and not true. Just then someone unlocked his door to his room, and walked in. It was Uncle Vernon, and he had a menacing look on his face like he found something amusing.
"Well Harry I am pleased to see that you are lying down it will make my job a whole lot easier." He said smiling. Harry had know clue what he was talking about, so he stayed quiet.
"Why aren't the dishes done boy" he barked suddenly. Harry had totally forgot about the dishes. Great he thought another week without any dinner.
"I forgot" he said knowing that it wouldn't make a difference.
"Don't back talk me boy" he said angrily.
"Do you know what this means boy?" he smiled.
"Ya, ya I know, know dinner for a week" he said tiredly. Uncle Vernon smiled his most wicked smile yet.
"Oh know that doesn't seem to be working," he said pulling out a long stick from behind his back.